


Tattoos

by ShadowState



Series: sounds like something Else [2]
Category: Elsewhere University (Webcomic)
Genre: (what did you expect?), Gen, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 21:40:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13598940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowState/pseuds/ShadowState
Summary: Belief has powerful properties.





	Tattoos

When you first enter EU, you are baffled by all the strange customs. Over time, they grow on you. Over more time, you pick up on why they exist. (Your study-friend’s roommate, whose eyes turned too bright, whose smiles became a little wider, a little sharper, and who stopped telling little fibs as jokes on strangers and proof of humanity, helped.)

The day before your journey back for your sophomore year, you go to a tattoo parlor. You show the tattoo artist a picture of the anti-possession from Supernatural, and ask for it to placed behind your left shoulder. You debate for a while the merits of having it in silver, but eventually choose plain black. EU may not be the same as the world of Supernatural, but the symbol will protect you from being Taken. You are certain in your belief. And there is power in that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stop hearing flute music coming from the path into the woods.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re not sure how long you’re there as a sophomore, it feels like years go by before you see home again, but when you decide to come back a third time, you get two more tattoos. Now you have one for each time you enter a new school year.

There is a silver-ink chain around your wrist. Sometimes it dips under your skin, like it’s woven into your essence. There is also a prayer, loopy cursive covering your lower back, and it’s for protection from misfortune and sinister intentions, and you think that stealing you away counts as a pretty sinister intentions.

You decide to ask darkroom photography to get photos of your tattoos. They might come in handy later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your third year seems rushed, almost. Long, but like all the time was compressed to fit in a small, tight space. Hurried and urgent.

Things start to pick up when spring comes. There is a wariness that pervades the campus and makes every step preparation to flee, like the tempo of the metaphorical drum that constantly keeps time to life on campus has picked up. The Gentry seem to be getting more…

Prickly. Not quite the right word, but it helps shape the idea. They’re being more brisk, certainly, in their interactions. They show up less often around campus, and revelries are happening less and less often. It makes the nervousness worse.

Cat Eyes has been disappearing and reappearing sporadically around the grounds. Those who notice are on edge, because Cat Eyes has always been one of the few reliable indicators of when things are about to go pear-shaped. She’s the canary in EU’s coal mine. (Metaphorically. Only an idiot would enter the Tunnels. Then again, you’ve heard some stories...)

Nothing good is happening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You… did not __intend__ to get dragged into the thick of the problem. Either way…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You do not make it out. You are not the protagonist of that story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

…

…

…

...You’re alive. And… you’re out.

You cling to the RA like she’s your lifeline as you stumble along on the pebble-lined path. You’re probably hurting her arm, but you’re too rattled to feel more than a distant lance of apologetic regret under the layers of shaking __how-am-I-alive__.

Your tattoos glow like a sun is trapped under your skin, and they are the window through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They’re __larger__ , is what you notice after you stumble out of your first shower in __weeksmonthsyearscenturies__. Your delicate bracelet is now a strong chain that entwines your arm and embeds itself on your wrist and shoulder. There are __shadows__ , black and hard-edged like a comic. It looks like it’s floating above your skin. Your prayer is in an unintelligible language that looks like prayers, and unfolds like insect wings on your lower back and sides, and your eyes hurt to see it in the mirrors you use. You can’t remember what it once said. You don’t think any of the Language majors you’d care to deal with would be able to help.

And your upper back…

Your upper back and neck swirl with shimmering, oil-hued __fire__

surrounding a five-pointed star that swallows light like a black hole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(They tell you, later, that you were one of only a couple of the many, many people lost who survived long enough for the RAs to come. ( _ _The RAs can’t bring back the dead alive.__ ) You don’t know if you’re grateful. You don't remember a thing, and you have no idea what happened to the photos you had of your tattoos.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is really the one you should have gotten first, when you decided to come back.

Over your heart, the emblem of Elsewhere University sits proudly in a mossy, grayish green color - tiny, in comparison to the new grandeur of your original tattoos, but stark and clear. Encircled in the ring are the words __Cauti, Cordati, Auspicati__. It is dangerous, having something like that so permanent on your body, but it will also prove advantageous. This you Believe.

(EU protects its own, no matter where they are. This, you __Know__.)

Now, you need to choose a new college from the options you have for senior year, and ignore the bittersweet, humming grief that seems to radiate, primarily, from your old tattoos.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably edit the fuck out of this later, but for now I just want to get it out there. This is unbeta'd, and constructive criticism is welcome.


End file.
